


Always Family

by Wolfcry22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Coughing, Dean Winchester Loves The Impala, Dean Winchester Misses Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Depressed Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Fever, Fever Dreams, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, John Winchester Angst, John Winchester Bashing, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Lonely Dean Winchester, Pre-Season/Series 01, Sad Dean Winchester, Sick Character, Sick Dean Winchester, Sickfic, Sneezing, Stanford Student Sam Winchester, Texting, The Impala (Supernatural), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22
Summary: So Dean's been working alone for a while, keeping touch with his dad with texting and trying to avoid the state of California that reminds him too much of his brother who literally deserted him.But after working a particularly difficult job while sick, his dad sends him coordinates very near Palo Alto and his fevered mind starts playing tricks on him.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	1. Alone....Just Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This story is going to be set when Sam’s at college and Dean is missing his brother while his Dad is off without knowledge of what his eldest is going through. Some will take place in person and some over text and on the phone. I hope you all enjoy!

The cool rain fell over Dean's shoulders as he stared at the open grave in front of him. The bones of a very old Mr. Burke loomed in front of him. Dean lifted his arm and coughed wetly. He shivered as he flicked the lighter in front of him. 

"May you Rest In Peace, Mr. Burke," Dean announced as he tossed the lighter into the grave. It immediately went up in flames and Dean took a step away from it as he felt the rain start to infuriate his itchy nose.

"HutCSHshoo!"

Dean sneezed openly and the fine spray melted into the rain. He lifted a hand to the underside of his nose and sniffed powerfully. He shook his head before he looked back to the rental car that he was using since his father had the Impala. He marched over to it with his hands tucked into his pockets. 

He immediately clambered in and slammed the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together in an effort to get warm. He lowered his head into his hands and breathed loudly, struggling to keep it all together. He felt cold, achy, and feverish all at the same time and he wasn't sure how to perceive it.

He leaned forward a bit and pressed his forehead against the steering wheel, hoping that it would help with his throbbing headache. But, all it seemed to do was make it worse. All he wanted to do was relax and almost disappear for a little bit. However, that wasn't possible because people were dying. At least, that's what his dad would say.

But, the cold was only half the reason why he felt terrible. The other part was Sam. It had been a few months since he had left for Stanford without so much as a word until the day he left. He never gave an explanation or even told Dean why he was leaving. Dean felt like Sam had abandoned him and didn't care about him anymore, especially to leave him alone with dad. Yet, Sam wouldn't understand that since Sam wasn't there. Sam wasn't coming back since he was living his own life now. Dean couldn't blame him, but the way he did it made Dean feel betrayed.

"Why did you have to leave like that, Sammy? What did I do that was so horrible that caused you to leave," complained Dean out loud. He let out a small growl before he punched the steering wheel as hard as possible in frustration.

His fist ached ever so slightly before he rubbed his fingers from his other hand over it, breathing loudly through his mouth since he couldn't breathe through his nose anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut before when his phone buzzed beside him.

He picked it up and saw that it was his father. Then again, who else would it be?

Have you wrapped up the hunt yet?-J

Dean huffed in annoyance. Did his dad doubt his skills?

Yeah dad. Of course I did.-D

Good. I have a new case that I need you to look into.-J

Where is it?-D

I'll send you the coordinates.-J

Why won't you just tell me where it is?-D

Just listen to me.-J

Dean almost zoned out when his father texted him exactly where he needed to go. His lip curled as he ran his wrist under his streaming nose. He looked at the coordinates and shook his head as he thrust the phone down on the seat in frustration.

"No, no!"

He grabbed the phone tightly until his knuckles turned white.

I don't think so.-D

You have to, Dean! People are dying.-J

Dean knew that. That was his dad's goto quote. But, he knew that his father wouldn't let him live this down if he said no. He gritted his teeth before he grabbed his phone again.

Alright, fine. I'll be there in a day.-D

Hurry. People are....-J

Dean didn't bother reading the rest of it since he knew the answer. He threw the phone aside yet again and lifted a hand to his nose to stop the mucus from leaking from his runny nose.

"HUtcshoo! Hutcshshoo!"

Dean sniffed back the congestion with a breezy cough once he started the ignition of the car, sighing heavily. "I really don't like this." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean drove the entire night and part of the day until he arrived at Palo Alto. When he did he found a motel in the outskirts of town just like he usually did with his father. Except now they were doing more and more hunts alone. He had absolutely no one anymore and it took a lot out of him just to keep going every day. But, now being in Palo Alto was bringing up things that he didn't want to face. 

He grumbled as he parked in the motel parking lot. He lifted a hand and coughed wetly into it, feeling his chest ache with each cough. He squeezed his eyes shut and snuffled back so much congestion that it seemed to drip down the back of his throat and that made his nose itch. 

"Hutcshshoo! HuTCShoo!"

Dean gasped in surprise as he looked down. He saw spray speckle the steering wheel thanks to his nasal outburst. He rubbed it with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before he opened the driver's side door and stepped out. Pain shot through both legs like an electric jolt. He gritted his teeth when they started to chatter. He tightened the sweatshirt around his shoulders and grabbed his duffle from the backseat and made his way to his motel room.

He pushed it open and almost fell onto the ground. He shook his head and made his way to the bed, falling on it. His nose started to tickle again and he lifted a hand to his nose, brushing it firmly. "HuhTchshoo! HuTCshShoo!"

Dean grimaced as mucus threatened to leak from his nose against his thumb. He held it there and and forced himself over to the bathroom urgently. He pulled a roll of toilet paper out and blew his nose into it. Snot completely saturated the toilet paper and he moaned at his own disgust. He pulled more from the roll and balled it up before blowing once more. He rubbed upward at his nose before he crumpled it and threw it into the trash. He ran his fingers through his spiky hair and looked into the mirror.

His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks were flushed with fever, and sweat saturated his face. He was beyond tired and it felt like something was trying to rip out his throat. His nose was completely blocked and it was painful when he tried to breathe through his nose. His chest felt like someone was sitting on it. He was feeling all sorts of horrible and no was was around even to care, let alone take care of him. 

Whenever Dean had been sick in the past, Sam would always take care of him. Sam would drop everything for his brother and Dean did the same on multiple occasions. Their father wasn't going to do it, so that meant that the brothers had to pick up the pieces. Dean would've done anything to get that back. But, Sam had made his choice and now Dean had to live with that.

"HutCShshSHoo! HuhTcshSHoo!"

Dean pinched the bridge of his nostril ever so slightly before more mucus ran down his face. He pulled more toilet paper and didn't even bother to blow his nose. Once he was finished cleaning himself up, he just grabbed the entire roll and walked over to the bed. He flopped down and breathed loudly through his mouth, gasping loudly. 

He felt his entire body seem to prickle in unease. He suddenly turned and stretched a hand to grab his phone. His mind seemed to almost be in a fog as he started to scroll through the same. He finally rested on Sam as he breathed heavily.

Sam.

It was about ten minutes later when Sam finally text Dean back. Dean had been almost asleep, but the sound of the text tone woke him up right away. He reached over and grabbed the phone that had slid off of his chest.

Dean? Is that you?

Yeah it's me Sammy. How r u?

Fine. How r u?

Good. Just chillin in Palo Alto.

U r here! Why?

Hunt. Why else. It's not the view or the food.

Dean something seems up with you. R u alright?

Dean held the phone a little closer to his chest as he caught his breath. He felt like he had just run a marathon.

Just a little under the weather is all. I'll b fine. Don't worry about me.

You wouldn't have text me if nothing was wrong. Where r u?

Dean wasn't really sure. He had just stopped at the nearest motel that he could find. "HutcSHcshoo! HuhTCShshSHoo!"

Don't know. Doesn't matter. Goodbye Sam.

Dean gritted his teeth in anger and threw his phone across the room. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and leaned backwards, coughing loudly through his mouth as he closed his eyes in frustration. 

He thought about getting up and seeing what he had in the first aid kit, but it just seemed to far away at the moment. He just wanted to sleep. He didn't want to think of the hunt, or his father, or even Sam right now. He just wanted to be left alone. That's all he wanted these days was to be alone. 

Dean slowly closed his eyes as he felt the cool blackness rush over him as everything disappeared.


	2. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s only one person to make this better and that is Dean.

There was a sudden knock at the motel door, but Dean was too out of it to notice. He coughed loudly against his shoulder before he turned on his side, shivering underneath his sweatshirt. It would've ordinarily kept him warm, but he felt chilled to the bone. He blinked tears from his eyes while he pulled the pillow closer to his chest and throat as if that would soothe it.

The knob started to jiggle for a moment until the door swung open. Sam stepped through and held his breath when he saw his brother laying on the bed almost curled in a fetal position. He hadn't seem him like that in years and it wasn't a welcoming sight. That had to have meant that his fever was through the roof and that would explain the text he received from his usually bravado ridden brother. Dean would've never done that if he was in his right state of mind. 

"Dean," whispered Sam as he crept close in case his brother was sleeping.

"HuTCSShhoo! HuhTCshoo! HuhTCShshSHoo!"

Okay, not sleeping, but not fully awake either. Somewhere in between awareness and unconsciousness. Sam just hoped that Dean would eventually wake up and realize that he was there. The last thing that he needed was for Dean to come after him because he was so caught up in his fever that he thought Sam was some sort of supernatural creature and try to shoot him. That had happened before and Sam was lucky that Dean had been shaking so bad and missed. 

Sam came over to Dean as slowly as he possibly could. "Dean, can you hear me?"

Dean mumbled something that Sam didn't catch. He gnawed at his lower lip before he came over to Dean and ran his fingers through his hair and felt his forehead for fever. It scorched his fingers and he could only imagine what it was actually doing to Dean's brain. He had to lower it quickly so that he didn’t have to take a trip to the hospital. 

"I'm going to help lower your fever. Just hang tight," Sam whispered as he headed into the bathroom and grabbed the nearest cloth that he could find. He ran the cloth under the cool water and wrung it out. Once he was finished he brought it into the bedroom and came back over to his brother.

He kneeled down and started to bathe Dean's forehead in the cool water. Dean scrunched up his face a bit as he moved away from his brother's hand. Luckily, Sam was used his brother's fevered state, so he knew exactly what to do. It may have been a while, but it was just like riding a bike when it came to dealing with his brother. Sam would quickly get used to it and he would help his brother while he could.

"Okay, Dean. You're really warm. I have to go get you something for this," Sam told him, even though he was pretty sure that he was probably just talking to himself at this point. Dean looked like he too out of it to care. 

"HuhTCShshSHoo! HuhTCShshSHoo!"

Sam jumped out of the line of fire a second too late. It misted his arm and Sam grumbled to himself. He frowned as he patted Dean's shoulder. "Stay here and don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, okay?"

He wasn't expecting Dean to answer and he didn't mind that he didn't. At least he wasn't arguing with him, which was a step in the right direction. He smiled as he stood up from the bed and grabbed the keys to his car before he headed out of the motel room, closing the door behind him. 

It was about a half an hour later when Dean finally woke up. He felt something wet on his pillow and he moaned when he realized that it was his nose was practically leaking. He lifted a finger to his nose and sniffed painfully. His nose seemed to almost vibrate thanks to a deep tickle and he picked forward in the pillow once more to sneeze. 

"HutCShshoo! HuTCSShoo!" 

Dean snuffled deep in his sinuses as he lifted the side of his fist to his nose to contain what was trying to leak out. Clearly it wasn't working. He cupped the lower half of his face with his hand while he forced himself to stand. The pressure in his head shifted and he felt like he was going to fall right over. He locked his knees as he walked back to the bathroom to grab more toilet paper since he had used up the last roll.

He pulled some more off of the other roll and mopped it against his nose. He threw it in the trash before he pulled it over his nose and blew loudly. Once he was finished he coughed heavily and felt his throat seem to become even more raw than when he woke up. He squeezed his eyes shut and panted heavily. 

He headed back into the bedroom and thought about when he would hear from his father. He would probably be scolded and yelled at. So, he grabbed his phone and turned it off. He didn't care to hear anything about it right now. He just wanted to think about himself for a few days for once. Was that too much to ask for? 

"HuTCSShoo! HuhTCshSHoo! HutcSshShoo!"

The sneezes ripped out of him like mighty road of thunder. Dean bucked forward and stretched out a hand to stop himself from falling over on the bed. He gagged at the soreness in his throat, feeling a few drops of congestion drip from his nose. He would've been embarrassed if he wasn't alone. But, it wasn't like he had Sam there complaining about how unhygienic he could be.

He then started to rummage halfheartedly through the duffle with one hand, keeping the other still under his nose. He found what he was looking for almost instantly: a fresh bandana. He shoved it against his nose and felt it immediately become soggy. He grumbled as he blew his nose before he slumped in the bed and yawned loudly. That caused his throat to ache even more and he wrapped both hands around it as if he was choking himself.

"This sucks," he yelled hoarsely to no one in particular. He just wanted someone else to know how awful he felt, yet there was no one there.

Dean closed his eyes a bit, jolting awake when he heard the door start to jiggle on its hinges. He knew that sound anywhere. That was the sound of someone trying to pick the lock.

He propped himself up immediately and stretched out a hand and grabbed the gun that he kept under his pillow. It was already loaded in case of emergencies, and since he had been sick he had been on an even higher guard than usual. He knew that his senses were a little sluggish, but he wasn't about to let that get in his way. 

The door opened and Dean sprang up, pointing the gun in the direction of the door.   
  
Meanwhile, Sam walked in and immediately threw his arms into the air with plastic bags in his hands. He looked shocked and hurt upon seeing his brother pointing a gun at him. However, it certainly hadn't been the first time. 

"Woah, Dean, it's me," Sam began. 

Dean gritted his teeth as he shook his head madly, eyes blinking as though believing it was his mind fucking with him. "N-No," he growled in rage as he shuddered a bit, goosebumps popping up along his arms. 

Sam noticed immediately and motioned to the counter. "I'm just going to set these down and then we'll talk," Sam suggested in a soft voice.

"No," Dean snapped as he lifted the hand with the gun with one trembling hand and rubbed at his sweaty forehead with the other. "I don't know who you are. Get out!"

"It's Sam. It's your brother," Sam told him gently.

Dean gulped as he felt his throat ache once more. He coughed painfully and wetly in front of him. Sam screwed up his face in disgust while Dean turned on him with the gun pointed right between his eyes.

Sam was still as calm as can be. He started to walk around him so that he was slightly corralling his brother, making sure to still keep a safe distance away. Dean moaned as he staggered back, almost panting with the effort to breathe. He grasped at his chest and coughed once more. 

"Dean, please sit down before you fall down."

Dean glared at him once more, lifting the gun to his face as well as his hand and tried to contain what he knew was about to happen.

"HuTCShShoo! HuhTCSSHoo! Huh'ITCSHshoo! HuTCSHShoo!"

Sam took the opportunity when Dean was sneezing to steer him over to the bed. He took the gun from his brother's clammy hand and grabbed the bandana that Dean had been using before. Mucus dripped from his runny nose and Sam forced himself to push the bandana into Dean's hand and shove it against the underside of his brother’s nose. Dean breathed through his nose so that it made a crackling sound. Sam tried to ignore it as he continued to steer his brother sideways. 

"There you go," chided Sam as he helped his brother lay down, yet be propped up by some pillows so that he could breathe through the congestion.

Dean removed the bandana from his face as he looked up to his brother with glazed eyes. “Sabby?"

"Yeah, that's me," Sam whispered as he held up one finger. "Wait a minute. I'll be right back." He rushed over to one of the plastics bags and rummaged around until he brought out a box of tissues. He walked back to his brother and tipped the top off. "Here. You look like you could use these."

Dean screwed up his face in annoyance. "Sabby."

"Just blow your nose, Dean. I can hardly understand you," Sam told him as he sat on the edge of the bed as he looked over to his brother intently. 

Dean frowned as he grabbed a few and blew his nose with a productive trumpeting sound. Once he was finished, he handed it to Sam who grimaced. "Thanks. Just what I wanted." Sam threw away the tissues and looked back to his brother, stretching out a hand to feel Dean’s forehead.

Dean pulled away just in the nick of time. “Stop it," he mumbled in frustration as he tried to swat a hand at his brother.

Sam laughed as he drew back, shaking his head. "You must be feeling bad. Your reflexes are terrible," he joked as he pulled away from the bed and headed back to the bags. He rummaged through once more and brought out a thermometer, cold medicine, and a compress that could be either hot or cold depending on what Dean needed. 

"Alright, I need you to open your mouth," Sam instructed plainly so that Dean wouldn’t become confused. 

Dean squinted his gaze as he looked at his brother. "Sammy—“

"Don't do that. I'm trying to help you," Sam told him as he tried not to loose patience with his brother. He knew how stubborn Dean could be, but he had to break through.

Dean grumbled before he opened his mouth slowly. Sam tipped the thermometer in Dean's mouth before Dean could fight him off. Dean moaned while rested a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Keep it in or we'll have to do it again," Sam pointed out.

Dean said nothing as he gagged slightly. When the thermometer finally beeped, Sam took it out and read the digital reading. "103.2. That's not too good."

"It could be worse," Dean argued with an almost lopsided smile.

Sam tried not to laugh as he grabbed the medicine bottle and brought it over to Dean. He undid the cap and poured some of it into the cap. Sam brought it over to Dean, but Dean turned away.

"Dean," complained Sam loudly.

"HuTCSHShoo! HuhTCSHoo! HuhTCShoo!"

Sam sighed loudly as he grabbed the tissue box and dangled it right in front of his brother's face. Dean took out the tissues and blew his nose weakly. He tended to his dripping nose before he turned back over to Sam, looking even more tired than he had before. He sniffed painfully and started to rub at the sides of his nose with the wilted tissues.

"It's alright, Dean. This'll make you feel better, I promise," Sam told him as he handed him the small cup with the radioactive color liquid inside.

Dean's hand started to shake so much that he couldn't bring it to his lips. Sam reluctantly took his brother's hand in his own and helped lift the cup to his mouth. Dean took the medicine without complaint before Sam set the cup aside on the nightstand. 

"Sam," croaked Dean before Sam could step up from the bed.

Sam tipped his head to the side. "Yes, Dean?"

"I don't feel good," confessed Dean as he coughed once more.

Sam pulled away just in time so that no spittle landed on him. He patted his brother's shoulder and got up to place the compress in the fridge so that it would at least get a little colder. He came back when he heard Dean whimper.

"What's wrong, Dean," Sam asked.

"Why did you leave," Dean choked out in anger as if he was trying to yell, but his throat wouldn't allow it. 

"Dean, I don't think—“

"Shut. Up!" Dean started to gag and cough. He looked to his brother with watery eyes and Sam couldn't tell if it was the effort to breathe, or if his big brother who never showed any emotions was actually crying. Sam didn't even want to guess which one it was. 

Dean swallowed and tried to compose himself as he grabbed more tissues and pressed it against the underside of his nostrils. He closed his eyes and breathed through his open mouth painfully. "Please, Sam. You have to tell me. I have to know why."

"Dean—“

"Sammy, please," Dean begged in a tiny voice.

Sam didn't see how he had much of a choice now. He sagged his shoulders as he walked over to his brother and sighed heavily. "Alright. Where do we start?"


	3. Separate Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something never change and somethings are always changing.

"I just want to know why," pleaded Dean once Sam sat down beside him. He tried to meet his little brother's gaze, but he ended up turning away almost in fear of the answer. Was it because of him?

"I think that you know why I had to leave," Sam whispered, fingers digging into his jeans over his knees.

Dean shook his head fiercely. "I don't! What did I do to you that made you hate me so much to leave me?!" Dean started to cough and he had to talk between sputtering breaths. “You left me with dad and you know how he is."

"Exactly," answered Sam. He rested beside his brother and tried to smile in his direction. "You know how he is. I couldn't take another day of it. You're made for this sort of thing, Dean. I'm not. You always knew that."

"You could've become better. You didn't have to leave," Dean suddenly rasped as he leaned sideways so that his head was slightly rested on Sam's shoulder. It was usually the other way around, but things were a bit reversed at the moment. 

Sam nodded as he hugged Dean a little closer. "I think that I had. I couldn't take it there anymore. I'm sorry that you were left behind. I'm also sorry that I didn't write or call. I just thought that that would make it worse," confessed Sam.

"I wanted you to write," complained Dean loudly before he fell forward with a few uncovered and powerful sneezes. "HuTCSHshoo! HuhTCShSHoo! HuhTCHSshoo!"

"Bless you," Sam whispered as Dean brought more tissues to his much abused nose. The skin was starting to peel and it caused every touch to be excruciating. "You should really get some rest."

"Will you be here when I wake up," Dean asked as his eyelids started to close.

Sam thought for a moment, but he didn't nod his head. He didn't want to lie to his brother, and didn't want him to fuss either. "Get some rest, Dean. You need it."

Dean closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean opened his eyes a few hours later and found that it was complexly dark. He slightly moaned as he turned sideways on the bed and patted the space beside him. He felt nothing there.

Dean sat up and stretched ever so slightly. He turned his head to the nightstand and saw a bottle of liquid cold medicine with the cap there as well as tissues and a thermometer.

Suddenly, something fell from Dean's forehead and landed on his lap. He frowned when he realized that it was a cold compress that he used to put on Sam's head when he had a fever. The only one who knew that would've been Sam himself. Their father was never there. 

"Sam," whispered Dean so softly that he wasn't even sure that he had spoke.

He moaned as he rolled sideways with his entire body screaming in protest. He rose from the bed and let out a deep breath as he looked around. His chest felt less tight and his nose wasn't as blocked. But, he couldn't remember actually doing anything about these things when he fell asleep. Something was very strange. 

"HuhTCssShoo! HuhTCShso! HuTChsShoo!"

The sneezing was still there, but then again, what else was new? It wasn't like he expected that to completely disappear. He gave his head a shake as he reached for the tissues, pushing them against his defiant nose. It still twitched under the tissue and he could just feel the snot seeping out. He held it there and let it run. He didn't have anything better to do.

He wanted to see what time it was, but he couldn't find his phone. He looked around for a little bit before he noticed it on the counter.

‘That's strange,’ Dean thought. ‘I don't remember putting it there.’

"HuTCshsShoo! HutCshsShoo!"

Dean felt spray land on his hand as he cupped it over his face. He groaned as he grabbed more tissues to stop the stream yet again. He took the opportunity to head to the bathroom to at least wash his hands off since they were now sticky and it was grossing him out surprisingly. Give him blood or any other bodily fluids, but there was something about snot that rubbed him the wrong way.

Once he was finished, he threw the tissue away and made his way over to the counter. He ran his fingers along the cool surface before he snatched up his phone. He flipped it open and was surprised to see that it was turned off. He didn't recall doing that.

He turned his phone on and lumbered back toward the bed. He slumped down hard and looked up, his glassy eyes taking in everything around him. He wet his lips with his tongues before he heard his phone buzz and turn on.

He flipped it open and saw a lot of missed calls and texts from his father, but that wasn't what interested the most. That would be the texts that he sent or received from his brother. He didn't remember sending them whatsoever, but he apparently had.

He read through them and saw where Sam had said that he was coming. A smile crept on his lips. It suddenly made sense with the tissues, cold medicine, and thermometer suddenly appearing in the room. Sam must have come when Dean was delicious from fever.

He coughed wetly into a fist as he dialed Sam's number and brought the phone up to his ear.

‘Hello? Dean?’

‘Sammy. Thank you.’

Dean immediately hung up the phone since he was sure that he would end up saying something sappy or something that he couldn't take back. He threw the phone across the bed and then fell back. 

Sam might not be there now, but Dean could at least relax knowing that his little brother had been there when he needed him most. Family would always be there for each other and that's how it would stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and I hope you all enjoyed and are staying safe and healthy!


End file.
